7
"Now what?" Jack said as traffic on the bridge slowed.
Another accident? Couldn't people pay attention when they got behind the wheel? City traffic was bad enough without dumbasses banging into each other.
He reigned in his irritation and forced himself to relax. He wasn't on the clock, nowhere he had to be.
Chill.
Then he felt a chill—literally. A vaguely familiar one, last experienced in January when Rasalom had paid him a visit to sup on his rage, grief, and despair. Emma was gone and Gia and Vicky were on the fast track to join her. Jack had provided a movable feast of negative emotions.
And this was very much like the chill he'd experienced as Rasalom had fed.
Was he nearby?